Monthly Writer's Challenge : February 2007

[Qray]

February 2007 Writer's Challenge

The guidelines for the Challenge are as follows :

Write a story, poem, or song that somehow incorporates the monthly challenge image, challenge title, or both. The story, poem, or song doesn’t need to be a complete work. It can just be an excerpt. Just so long as it meets the minimum word count and somehow incorporates the monthly challenge image, challenge title, or both.

As with all posts, the content of the story, poem, or song must meet Speculative Vision Forumguidelines for appropriateness.

Any genre may be used.

For the month of February, there is no minimum word count.

You can write more than one story, poem, or song.

The end of the challenge (the deadline) will be the end of the month.

This is a writing challenge, not a contest. It’s an opportunity to share our creativity and have fun!

If you want a critique of your writing, please say so in your post.

Let the authorial mayhem continue!

This month's story title:
Wishing Well.

This month's image:

Source : Mlle. Blofeld

Post edited for spelling (Q)

[Bmat]

Wishing Well

“Guys! Hey, Guys! Come look’a what I found!” Mikey hopped up and down in his excitement and started running across the field. The other children giggled and pushed playfully at each other, and then they charged off after Mikey.

“What is it, Mikey?” shouted Paul as he ran after his friend.

“Just wait an’ see!” Mikey danced around in a circle until the others caught up, and then he raced off again down the hill and into the woods.

Paul and Becky hesitated a moment. Their mother had cautioned them against playing in the woods. Strange goings on there, they had been told. Just you keep your distance.

Mikey huffed back out and waved. “Come on! You gotta see this!”

The children looked a question at each other. Then they whooped and dashed after him.

When they reached the woods, though, they slowed down and looked about apprehensively. Their mother's warning sounded ominously in their minds. Becky mewed a little sound of fear, and she reached for Paul’s hand.

Mikey confidently marched on, stopping from time to time to urge his friends to come along faster.

They arrived at a small clearing. After the darkness of the woods, the bright clearing made them blink.

In the middle of the clearing was a hole in the ground surrounded by a low stone wall. The bucket sitting on the wall was enough to convince the children that this was a well.

The children could not see as far as the bottom of the well. “This is a wishing well!” said Mikey importantly.

“That’s fine, Mikey, but we don’t have any coins to toss in. Let’s go home, Becky.” Paul reached for Becky’s hand.

Mikey quickly yelled, “Wait! You gotta see this!” He grinned and tossed a pebble into the darkness. The children leaned over the stone wall and listened. They heard the splash of the pebble hitting water.

They jumped in surprise when the pebble came shooting back up at them.

“Uh-oh!” Becky whined. “That scared me. I want to go home!” She backed away. “Come on, Paul. Take me home to Mommy.”

Paul pulled away from his sister, and to show that he was no scaredy cat he grabbed up a handful of the pebbles that lay around the well. He tossed them in. Whoosh! Down they went. Whoosh! Up they came!

Becky was still doubtful, but she edged closer to the others. Before long she became brave enough to join the pebble tossing game. Hours passed as they tossed pebbles in, and pebbles came flying out.

After a while, the children found the game boring. They tiredly walked back into the woods and out again on the other side. Paul and Becky said goodbye to Mikey, and they all got home in time for supper.

Mikey hugged the knowledge of the wishing well to himself. He would never tell his parents about it. Becky and Paul tried telling their mother, but they were told to shut up and eat.

…

At the bottom of the well, Glarggh grinned a lazy grin and spat the last of the pebbles back up out of the well. It was fun from time to time to play the spitting game. Over the centuries, Glarggh had spat birds, leaves, pebbles, flowers, and sticks. Water sloshed as Glarggh shifted position.

[Mikira]

Wishing Well

Most people don’t believe that wishes can come true, but there are a few who know differently. And some that just believe that a wish can come true. Janna is one of the latter; she grew up in a small village deep in the emerald forest. It was a quiet existence, but Janna longed to leave the village. She was close to coming of age and having to get married, so she knew she didn’t have much time to find a way to get out, or be trapped in the village forever.

During Janna’s berry gathering excursions, she would explore farther and farther away from the village. In the hopes of finding a means to what in her mind she deemed a means to her personal freedom. She always made sure the other girls didn’t observe her sneaking away. Janna was never gone for long, so she wouldn’t be missed.

One day when Janna snuck away, Kyle who was chopping a fallen tree into fire wood spied her escape. He stopped chopping the log and leaned on his ax. As he watched Janna disappear into the woods. A sigh escaped his parted lips, since he wanted to ask for the pleasure of courting her when she came of age in a few short months. He found her to be the loveliest maiden in the village with her flowing locks of golden brown hair, big blue eyes and cherry red lips, he knew she would have other suitors for her hand as well and he hoped he would be the one to win her heart.

When Janna didn’t return to rejoin the girls picking berries nearby, Kyle got a little worried. He hefted his ax over his shoulder and followed the path into the woods he observed Janna go down a few moments ago. He felt his heart pound heavily in his chest as he followed the faint marks Janna’s passing made in the woods. He feared what he might find when he found her.

What Kyle found took his breath away when he stepped into a clearing in the woods about two miles from the village. At first all he saw was a cascading waterfall and a pool of clear blue water. Then he saw it. It looked as if it had only been built and he had to blink his eyes several times to make sure he was imagining things. But there it stood on the banks of the shimmering pool of water created by the waterfall. A well so finely built that it appeared as if it should belong on the grounds of a king’s castle. Kyle then saw Janna standing next to the well deep in a trance. He was afraid to approach her for fear he’d scare her to death. So he just stood at the edge of the clearing and watched.

When Janna saw the lovely well near the waterfall during this day’s excursion from the dullness of berry picking she felt certain this was what she had been looking for. She hurried toward the well gathering a few wildflowers as she went. She wasn’t sure exactly how she should proceed in making her wish so she just started thinking about all the things she wanted and threw a flower into the well with each thought. Then when she was done she turned to see the tall handsome dark haired man standing at the edge of the woods watching her and thought, ‘How could my wishes be answered so quickly?’

[Bmat]

Sunday Stroll




The old father speaks

Of the unforgotten past

To his young daughter.

[Qray]

Critiques and comments are welcome...

Wishing Well.

“Creep, creep, creep...”

Browbow the Red closed his eyes and failed his Will (calm-self) check. “Will you stop that!”

Fedazzle looked as innocent as she could “What?”

“Your incessant mumbling.”

“I was mumbling?”

Coming up from the rear, Frog of the One and Salice of the Faroffyetunnamedelvenkingdom tried to calm their leader. “It was really more of a sing-song chant than mumbling, Browbow,” Salice offered.

Browbow looked sideways at his second in command. “That doesn’t help much.”

Fedazzle scratched her head. “I was mumbling?”

“Go with the One,” Frog advised. “He shall show you the way to inner peace.”

“Yeah, ya know,” Browbow countered. “That doesn’t go with the whole bad-boy loner fighter thing I’m going for here.”

Fedazzle looked around at her companions. “I was mumbling?”

“I don’t know how to break it to you, Browbow,” Salice said rolling her eyes. “But your traveling in a party of six others. Hence our name, the Party of Six. So you’re really not ‘lone’ or anything.”

“Yeah,” Browbow said dismissively. “I was going more for the inner loner kind of feel, you know? The party member that doesn’t talk about his past. Reliable and deadly in a pinch, but otherwise an enigma.”

Salice rolled her eyes again. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“Hey!” Came the call from down the corridor as Nimbly the Stereotypically Small jogged up. “What’s the hold up? You know I don’t mind being out on point, but the least you could do is not abandon me up there.”

“Fedazzle was mumbling,” Salice explained.

Nimbly threw up his arms. “What, again?”

“Seriously,” Fedazzle wanted to know. “I was mumbling?”

“Yes,” Salice assured the other woman with a pat of her shoulder. “You were mumbling...creep, creep, creep.”

“Well,” Fedazzle shrugged. “We ARE on a dungeon creep. What do you want me to mumble...ride, ride, ride? Swim, swim swim?”

Before Browbow could tell Fedazzle what she could mumble, or mumble himself about having paid points into the ‘Knowledge (Ignore other Party Member)’ Skill had he known she was going to be this annoying, the groups barbarian broke things up.

“Mongo feel something not right,” Mongo of the Dangerousyethonorableasyetunnamednortherntribe intoned.

Glancing about, Browbow realized the party was surrounded by a horde of Hobgoblins. “Oh great, NOBODY successfully rolled a Spot Check!?!?!?”

“Er, why are they just standing there?” Salice whispered.

“That IS kind of odd,” Frog agreed.

“No, really,” Fedazzle insisted. “We’re dungeon creeping, what else would I be mumbling!?!?!?”

Browbow slowly lowered his hand to his sheathed sword, “Not now, Fedazzle.”

The Party of Six descended into silence. Browbow, Frog, Salice, Fedazzle, Nimbly, and Mongo all waiting for inevitable attack. Which oddly enough, was long in coming.

“Uh yeah, hi,” one of the Hobgoblins said as he stepped forward. “You guys all failed your spot check, but we all failed our surprise attack roll.”

Salice was a bit thrown off. “Yeah, but our party failing our spot check automatically gives you guys a free attack.”

The Hobgoblin raised his hands in defense. “You’re preaching to the converted, sister, but these other blokes are all ‘hey we’re old school, we’re all about second edition rules,” the Hobgoblin said. Obviously not happy with it’s compatriots.

“Oh, ok. Sooo...”

“Your party won initiative,” the Hobgoblin explained more than a little unhappily.

“So didn’t we waste our initiative with all this talking?” Nimbly was quick to point out, but Selice shook her head. “Nope, talking is a free action.”

“So is thinking,” Browbow said smiling. “Like thinking up a plan...aaaand, I got one.”

“Care to hip us to your groove, oh fearless one?”

“This corridor is too narrow for us to successfully defeat this many Hobgoblins in,” Browbow explained. “Especially now that were almost completely surrounded. We’ll retreat back to the last room. The one with the really high ceiling. Mongo and myself fighting a defensive retreat as the rest of you get gone. Salice, cast Ice Sheet on the floor after we start moving to slow the Hobgoblins. Then once in the room, Fedazzle can use her Ring of Flying to hover up near the ceiling and use her deadly bow in ranged attacks as the doorway will provide a natural choke point that Mongo and I can easily defend while Salice and Frog cast spells from relative safety. Any Hobgoblins that get past myself and Mongo, Nimbly can backstab for triple damage before they even get near the spell casters.”

The Hobgoblin spokesman was impressed. “That’s a pretty good plan. You guys have done this before.”

Browbow smiled. “Well, you know...hey, what are you guys going to do?”

The Hobgoblin scratched his head. “Well, we’re not Goblins, but Hobgoblins. So we’re big, strong, smart and organized with a fair history of being militaristic. So well probably just run after you helter skelter until we defeat you or all of us are dead.”

Browbow scratched his head with the end of his sword. “That doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

The Hobgoblin shrugged. “We’re just meant as filler to keep you guys interested. I mean, all we are is just experience points. There’s no explanation in the story of what we’re even doing in this dungeon. We’re expendable. We're basically one step up the encounter scale from, your average everyday random encounter”

That’s pretty much how it came down. Browbow and Mongo fighting a strategic retreat. Holding the Hobgoblins at bay long enough for the other party members to get away and position themselves in the last dungeon room. Which when the Hobgoblins tried to break into, were handily slaughtered by the well oiled machine that was the Party of Six.

Still, regardless of the way with which the group had not only gotten out of the trap, but had defeated the horde of Hobgoblins without sustaining serious damage, Nimbly wasn’t happy.

“Forty copper, ten silver, and three gold?!?!?!” the rogue groaned after ransacking their corpses. “Thirty Hobgoblins and that’s it!?!? I can’t even pay off my bar tab with that!”

“We’re not here for the gold, Nimbly,” Selice reminded the man. “We’re here for the honor and duty of freeing the countryside from the beasts that come out of this dungeon and harass farmers, travelers, and the other good folk.”

“Hose that,” Nimbly was quick to counter in his ever logical way. “I’m a stereotypical thief. I’m here for the gold and the back stabbing.”

“Speaking of which,” Frog said poking Nimbly’s pack. “Isn’t this a little fuller than when you went off to scout for the party. You didn’t happen to find some treasure you decided not to share with the rest of us, did you?”

Silent for a moment, Nimbly suddenly burst out “I’m shocked! Shocked that you would say such a thing! We’re here for er...for the honor and duty of freeing the countryside from the beasts that come out of this dungeon and harass farmers, travelers, and other good folk. I would never do such a thing!”

Both Browbow and Salice shared a look. “Once we find the well at the heart of this accursed dungeon we’ll all find as much treasure that we can carry,” the party’s leader told Nimbly.

Nimbly once more became highly energetic. “I found it!”

“You found it?”

“I found it! It’s at the end of the corridor that where we ran into those Hobgoblins.”

The massive rush to the other side of the corridor was halted just as the group neared the end.

“Ok, hold up everyone,” Browbow cautioned. “We know that whatever’s in there is going to really test our mettle...and Fedazzle, will you stop chanting ‘treasure, treasure, treasure...”

Fedazzle looked to Frog, “I was chanting?”

Nearly out of breath caused by the running and the stereotypical lack of physical training due to her sorceress character class, Salice panted with her hands on her knees. “What...what makes you think there’s something really nasty in there?”

Browbow smiled confidently. “I have my ways.”

“It’s the end of the dungeon,” Frog replied. “And the great treasure is found therein. Therefore it’s going to have the biggest baddie yet guarding it.”

“Er, right,” Browbow elbowed Frog. “Nimbly, check the door for traps.”

“Already did boss,” the thief answered. “No traps and it’s not locked.”

Browbow looked to the party’s mage. “That’s kind of odd.”

Salice nodded and stepping forward, placed both of her hands against the wall and closed her eyes. “Let me see if I can scry through the wall.”

After over an hour of waiting, Nimbly had enough. Not to mention, he’d carved all the graffiti questioning Browbow’s lineage and Salice’s promiscuity that he could think of into the corridor wall. With a “Hose this, Batman! I’m in,” the thief opened the door and walked through to the shouted warnings of the rest of the party not to do that very thing.

A few silent seconds later, the rogue popped his head back out the door. “Hey, you guys gotta see this!”

Cautiously entering the room, the entire party was shocked.

There, in the middle of a large stone room, lit from some unseen light source high up in the cavernous ceiling, was the wishing well. The heart of the dungeon complex and the item that gave the complex it’s name.

That wasn’t what shocked the Party of Six. What shocked the adventurers was the stand run by two gnomes set up next to the wishing well with the sign that read...

Welcome to the Magical Wishing Well. 5gp per wish. One wish per customer. Keepsies only. No wish-backs.

“Well...piffle,” Salice groaned as her shoulders shrunk.

“I tried telling you guys,” Nimbly said with a smirk on his face. “But do you believe the party’s theif? Nooooo.”

“I think you just answered why with your own statement, Nimbly,” Browbow said flipping the gnomes a few gold coins. “One wish please.”

One of the gnomes slid a copper coin back to Browbow across the stand's worn, wooden surface. “In the well, bub.”

Taking the coin and a deep breath, Browbow tossed the coin into the well and uttered his wish.

Moments later, an impressive sword flew out of the well and into the warriors welcoming hands. “Just what a asked for!”

“How can you be certain?” Salice asked looking over the man’s shoulder.

Browbow held up the paper tag attached to the sword by a small string. “See, it says so right here. +3 Longsword. +5 vs. Undead!”

Nimbly whistled low. "Choice!"

[shadow]

It's been quite some time since I've posted here. Please feel free to critique.

The Wishing Well
No one in Wiltsfordshire remembered when the old brick factory had been built. No one was even sure what it had produced, or why the owners felt a wishing well was necessary to the functioning of the plant. The gloom that constantly shrouded the town seemed thickest over these structures, both slowly succumbing to the weight of time. A bell hung silently from the top of the wall facing the well and below it, a clock stood still, frozen at one terrible moment. A door leading to a sagging balcony was firmly shut. No proclamations were made there anymore, not since the announcement of the company’s closing. The building and well served as reminders of an age long past, before the endless war, when the town’s population was not solely composed of the very old and the very young. It was a time when violence was not the only way those in their prime eked out a living. Andrew often spent his free hours pacing around the well. He stared into its fathomless depths and wondered about that distant era, and the seeming improbability of peace. It was like picking a scab, or wiggling a loose tooth; painful, but fleetingly satisfying. The sharp pain of these thoughts made him feel more alive than the dull ache he experienced the rest of the time.

Andrew remembered finding the well a few years before. A child of indoor plumbing, he had begged his grandparents to explain the strange tunnel into the ground. Still young enough to hope for the truth in the myth, he hoarded his pennies for months, sure that a wish as big as his would need as much reinforcement as he could gather.

As he triumphantly poured the gleaming mass of coins into the well, he spoke aloud the prayer on everyone’s lips. A practical child, Andrew assumed his wish would take time in the granting, and he waited as patiently as a small child can. As the months passed into years, his hope hardened into sorrow and, eventually, resent at his prior foolishness.

Today, as he began his weary circling, the temptation to try again stole into his thoughts. He tried to push it aside, ashamed at his own desire. Again and again, Andrew found himself pausing at the lip of the well. The comfort this well provided was soon to be lost, for in a few short years, Andrew would leave Wiltfordshire, following the path of his parents, and all those before him. He resolved to attempt a wish once more.

Impulsively, he reached into his ragged pockets, and his fingers encountered a small, cold weight. Withdrawing his hands, he studied the lone coin, the only one he currently owned. It was old, beat-up and tarnished, like Andrew’s own hope. He scoffed at his own pitiful offering, and without hesitation, threw it into the hole. I wish things were as they were before, he thought, unable to bring himself to say it out loud.

Andrew realized he was holding his breath, and he blew it out derisively. He kicked a loose pebble on the ground in sudden anger, and collapsed against the stone wall, burying his head in his hands.

TICK.

Andrew jerked his head up. The clock face was perfectly still, and unchanged. There had been no preamble, no grinding of gears, rusty with long disuse, but he was certain he had heard it. Again, he held his breath, scared to dispel whatever magic had woven this minor miracle. Hope bubbled up in his chest like a fountain.

TICK.

The immobile clock continued to count down the seconds, and the minutes passed, with Andrew scarcely able to believe his ears. He began to hear the faint pitter patter of water falling in droplets on the ground, and the soft sploosh of those that fell into the well. His skin remained bone dry, but he tilted his face towards the sky, reveling in the weather.

BONG.

The bell began to toll four o’ clock, marking the end of a shift, and the beginning of a new one. Andrew stood, and walked into the middle of the courtyard. He shut his eyes tightly against disillusionment. Suddenly he could hear footsteps of a great crowd shuffling around him in all directions, and the soft mutter of its individuals greeting one another. The door in the wall creaked open, and then snapped shut, as if someone was just peeking out.

Slowly, a grin spread over Andrew’s face, and, unable to contain himself, he began to leap up and down in joy. The eldest member of the village, stooped and ancient, witnessed Andrew’s delight. Making his way to the lad, he opened an umbrella over the two of them, and the pair stood, faces to the sky, foolish smiles plastered on both.

Several villagers walked past, shaking their heads at the wild abandon and sheer absurdity of the pair. What a disgrace, they muttered and clucked. Akin to a tomb, this site was a sacred and still memoir of the past. Surely their lack of proper decorum was shameful. With their heads and thoughts aimed towards the paved ground, they missed the shift in the sky. A small break in the clouds formed, and the light glittered on the water at the bottom of the well.

[Boikat]

They were probably the last two humans in the Universe. That is to say, the last two humans who were still considered "Human", of the archaic species Homo sapiens sapiens. To be sure, since the great Migration from Old Earth, some million years earlier, the species split several times as various isolated populations of humans adapted to new planets with a wide variety of environments that differed to various degrees from that of Old Earth. If it wasn't differing gravities, causing differences in height, it was varying degrees of heat, or cold, or humidity, or O2 content, or a whole host of other variables. But the bottom line was, the original Old Earth H. sap sap, was all but gone.

The tall male, Karl, looked at the old building that stood out in glaring contrast under the harsh light of Rigel Prime. The intensity of the light bleached the color from the red brick building. "Well, here we are." said Karl.

"It's so ugly, it's beautiful, in a way", said the short woman who stood beside him.

"I suppose you're right, Melonie, but we are here." said Karl. Something in his tone cause Melonie to look up at him.

"Second thoughts?" she asked.

"No. No second thoughts. It's just the 'Great Unknown' thing." said Karl. "It's a one way trip, and nobody knows what's on the other side. No-body's ever came back, no messages have ever come through. It's a tremendous leap of faith..."

Melonie smiled, "You've summed up the whole of human existence. One big 'leap of faith' after another. And here we are, ready to make another."

Karl looked up and squinted at the glaring orb of Rigel Prime. "Yes. I suppose you're right. I suppose we should go in...."

The two started walking forward to the arched doorway. As they reached the threshold, the doors automatically opened, and they were met with cool air, and The Attendant.

"Greetings visitors. I trust your voyage was well?" said a extraordinarily thin human with gray-green skin.

"Well, we are here, so the voyage must have been well enough..." said Karl.

"To be sure" said The Attendant. "Are you ready, or would you like to dine first?"

Karl looked at Melonie, who shook her head. "No, let's get it over with." said Karl.

The Attendant bowed slightly, and said, "As you wish. Please, follow me." The gray-green human started down a hallway that was lined with statues of humans. Famous explorers, warriors, scientists, religious leaders, politicians, athletes, all manner of humans who's names were legends for tens to hundreds of thousands of years.

Presently, the three arrived at a pair of large heavy doors. The gray-green human stopped, and looked at the two.

"Will you be entering together, or separately?" he asked.

Karl was about to say "Together", but Melonie beat him to it.

"Very well". In order to ensure that you both arrive at your destination together, you must hold on to each other, very tightly, and whatever you do, do not let go of each other until the transportation is complete. Are you ready?"

Melonie and Karl both nodded.

The Attendant waived his hand in front of a whirl-pool design that decorated the set of doors. There was a deep thud, and the doors slowly slid open revealing a suspended bridge that extended into a large round room. Karl stepped forward and looked over the edge of the bridge and gasped at a sudden wave of vertigo. He felt Melonie grip his arm a little tighter, and heard her gasp too.

"Be at ease," said The Attendant. "Every one I have escorted has had the same reaction."

Below the bridge, a whirlpool of blue, green and yellow churned in want looked like the common illustration of the vortex surrounding the event horizon of a black hole. A deep rumble filled the chamber.

"The Wishing Well..." said Karl with a touch of awe in his voice.

"It's beautiful" said Melonie.

"If you are ready, please walk to the central platform. When you are ready, just step on to the red circle in the middle of the platform. Remember, hold on to each other, and do not let go."

Melonie's grip on Karl's arm tightened again. "Let's go.."

The two walked forward, and when they were half way to the platform, the heard a "thump" that barely registered over the din of the vortex. looking back, the saw that the double doors were now closed. Continuing on, the shortly reached the central platform. Karl and Melonie both looked at the red circle in the center of the platform.

"Karl, I..."

Karl didn't let her finish, but grabbed her in a hug and kissed her. "Leap of faith..." he said, then still holding her, stepped onto the red circle.

Instantly, the platform split into pie segments, and the two plummeted into the vortex...

*********

Was is a split second, or an eternity? Maybe both?

Karl felt a breeze lightly tickle his face. Slowly opening his eyes, he first saw blue skies behind a canopy of leaves. A sigh brought his attention to the body that was laying across his chest. "Melonie?"

"Ummm?"

"Melonie? I think we made it..."

"Made it where?" came a dreamy voice.

Karl thought for a second, and looked around some more as he gently stroked Melonie's hair. "I don't know where we are.."

Melonie opened her eyes, and looked around. "Would you believe me if I said this was exactly how I imagined it would be?"

"No, but I like it anyway.." said Karl, and gave her a kiss on the top of her head. "Hey, your hair's different.."

Melonie smiled, "So's yours. I mean, you have hair again."

Karl reached up and ran his fingers through his hair, looked at Melonie again, and smiled, "Wishing Well..."

**********

The Attendant made his latest entry into his log...

" Subjects transported." The Attendant paused and tried to decide on how to word what would probably be the last entry in his log. Finally he said, "The last Old Earth human are now in holographic stasis. They, and those that went before them, are now safe, and all systems are set to retrieve them when the time is right, be it in a thousand years, or a million. I go now to lock the doors of the Ark of Humanity, the 'Wishing Well', as the Humans called it. It shall remain closed until the Universe needs them again. As humanity split apart after the Great Migrations, each new species of man lost something in some way, and we were never able to recapture it. Yet the original Old Earth Humans continued to expand and explore, and innovate, and they endured. Nobody knows why their numbers diminished over the last ten thousand years, but the remaining numbers are safe now, safe in time and space. Perhaps, in the future, as the new species of man evolve beyond being "human", the Old earth Humans will be returned. That is in the hands of fate and the parameters of the monitor systems. That is all."

The Attendant really didn't like the way his last entry read, but shrugged and closed out the log anyway. Standing up, he walked down the hallway of statues, and looked at the various figures. He smiled at a statue of an Old Earther with a wild head of hair, full bead and mustache, dressed in animal skins and crude armor. "Eric the Red, Explorer, Warrior"

The attendant smiled again. "Amazing... I wonder, did you, in your wildest dreams, ever even come close to imagining how far your species would go?"